


closer to heaven

by swallowtail (orphan_account)



Series: through the pages [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcyland, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Rooftop Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1272139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/swallowtail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The roof became her solace. She feels like it's their secret garden, their peace, their pocket universe where they could stop being a hero of justice and a glorified assistant for a few hours.</p><p>***</p><p>Darcy has a habit of escaping to rooftops - but it looks like she's not the only one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	closer to heaven

It's a beautiful day and Darcy takes advantage of it.

All she can see is pure blue: an endless sea of pastel-perfect colour. Her hands stretch out lazily and grasp towards the hiding stars. There isn't a single whisper of white or grey across her canvas.

Sometimes, she likes to imagine that the pull of gravity weakens around her body and she tumbles up (or down?) into the heavens. Just freefalling and the wind roaring in her ears as she flies-slash-plummets from the rooftop, Stark Tower growing smaller and smaller, cities becoming states and countries, then finally - _finally_ \- just a big 'ol ball of water surrounded by endless night.

But right now, she's content with what she has. Just her, the sun, and the wind. No science jargon, no stuffy labs, no bored billionaires exploding shit for fun. Darcy smiles smugly and closes her eyes.

Oh, yeah. It's a _great_ day.

A door slams and Darcy scrambles up to her feet. She's in deep shit if Stark finds out she's playing hooky today - or that his hidden stashes of liquor have 'mysterious disappeared'.

(Darcy gets a little stressed dealing with three slightly mad scientists. She likes to think of it as payment for overtime.)

"I'm sorry, I didn't think there was anyone up here."

A tall, blond man is holding his hands up in a peaceful gesture, which makes Darcy realise she's got her hand on her taser holster. Darcy cringes and dusts her clothes.

"You kind of scared me there, big guy. Last time someone tried that, they got tazed."

Darcy stops adjusting her scarf to squint at the stranger. He's looking uncomfortably at her taser with those clear eyes and... damn. One thing's for sure, he's cuter than Thor.

"Um, thanks?" He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and takes long strides across the rooftop. Darcy mentally slaps herself.

"Sorry, no brain filter. I didn't mean to say that-" - Blondie turns back to face her - "-not that you're not cute! It's just, you've got that whole 'blonde hunk' thing going on _way_ better than Thor, but don't tell Jane I said that, and _oh my god_ , I'm doing it again..." Darcy covers her face with her hands and counts to three.

"Lemme try this again."

 Darcy plops herself down to the ground, facing away from Blondie. She mimics being startled again before getting up and offering her hand to him.

"Hi, I'm Darcy. I work with crazy scientists for a living and I am definitely not hiding out here because of Tony Stark."

Blondie looks entertained by this, and his warm hand takes hers in a firm handshake.

"I'm Steve. I deal with crazy every day..."

He smiles wryly.

"... and I am _definitely_ hiding from Tony Stark."

There's a loud explosion of glass and metal downstairs, the force of which blows open the rooftop door. Darcy yelps and Steve's instincts kick in, tackling her to the ground. As much as Darcy likes being in Steve's really, _really_ , muscular arms, she knows what that explosion means. Steve lets go and checks her for any injuries.

"Are you alright?"

Darcy nods, muttering a quick thanks and stumbling to the edge of the roof. Tony is swaggering out onto the helipad with his arms outstretched, smoke billowing out from the doors. He spots Darcy on the roof and grins.

"I knew I find you this way, Lewis! You're like a magnet for fun-sucking!"

"Tony," Darcy bellows, "quit blowing stuff up or I'm going to tell Pepper how you've been  skipping board meetings!"

Tony ignores this completely and spots Steve looming over Darcy.

"The hell you doing up there, Cap? Wait, don't tell me..." Tony's wiggles his eyebrows lecherously. "You canoodling with my assistant?"

Darcy whips her head back to a pink-eared Steve.

"'Cap?' As in, Captain _America_?" she whispers hoarsely. "Are you telling me that I just hit on a national icon?"

Steve opens his mouth to explain before another explosion rings out from below. A whoop of laughter follows soon afterwards.

"Get your ass down here, Cap! I bet you this baby can blast a hole right through your shield!"

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. Darcy pats his arm in reassurance - trying not to squeeze at the firm muscle - and starts making her way down the stairs.

"Guess that's my cue to go. I hope I'll see you around, Steve. I mean, Cap. Captain." Darcy turns around. "Wait, can I call you Steve? 'Captain' sounds too stuffy."

She gets a small smile in return, and Darcy swears that she's being pulled towards the everlasting blue above.

"Steve's fine."

"Okay, cool. Man, I'm so glad I know who you are now, or else I would have been asking people all day who 'Handsome Steve' was and when I could see him again!" Darcy laughs, then quickly slaps her hands over her mouth.

"Oh, kill me now."

And before she could embarrass herself any further, Darcy sprints down the stairs and towards the lab.

Steve doesn't follow her, much to Darcy's relief and Tony's chagrin. She ignores Tony's pestering for the rest of the day sticks to Jane and Bruce. She also buries herself in paperwork and tries not to think about Steve's smile.

"Did you get a taste of his _apple pie_ , Lewis?" asks Tony, giving her a wink. Darcy throws a report at him, slumps onto her desk, and lets out a muffled scream of frustration.

\--

She didn't mean for it to become a _thing_ , but it just sort of... happened.

\--

Darcy is an assistant to three of the most brilliant scientists in the US: she's not easy to startle. At least, that's what she tells herself when she nearly drops the Ovaltine container off the roof.

"Jesus, Steve! How long have you been there for?" Darcy cries. Steve gives an apologetic smile.

"Not long," he assures, settling down next to Darcy. She tries to ignore how warm his body is and hides her blush behind her thermos. Steve tilts his head towards her.

"Long day?"

"The usual. Chaos, fire, and paperwork, with Tony smack-bang in the middle of it all," Darcy quips, nudging Steve gently. "You?"

"Training, dealing with the press, and intelligence reports..." Steve trails off. "Sorry, am I interrupting you, or...?"

Darcy hums and shakes her head.

"Just enjoying the sunset, is all."

And she was. Some people take for granted the mix of burnt oranges and rosy hues that kiss the horizon every day. The lilacs that bring forth the dark indigo from the east, unveiling the jewels that shine across her breast.

They sit in comfortable silence when Darcy slips a spare thermos into Steve's hands.

 "Here. It's gonna get chilly soon."

Steve eyes the Ovaltine jar and the corners of his mouth quirk upwards.

"That's Clint's, isn't it?"

Darcy sniffs indignantly.

"His fault for putting an arrow through my new scarf," she mutters, pulling a small bag out and waving it enticingly. "Want some marshmallows?"

Steve chuckles, and the two of them stay until last light.

Darcy finds a deep blue scarf lined with silver stars on her desk two days later. But what _really_ makes her laugh is the tin of Ovaltine next to it.

\--

She'd look forward to their conversations on the rooftop about all sorts of things. Little things, big things. Serious questions and jovial replies.

\--

"Do you regret the whole 'super-soldier' thing?"

Steve is surprised at the bluntness of Darcy's question. It's refreshing change to the stilted small-talk with agents and probing questions from journalists. He shakes his head.

"No," he replies, as he lies next to Darcy on the rooftop. "I made a decision because it was the right thing to do. I had people I wanted to protect."

"They must be pretty special people."

"They were- they _are_ ," Steve muses, turning his head to face Darcy. "I think they would have liked you."

He feels Darcy nudge his side.

"Will you tell me about them someday?"

Steve nods.

"Only if you tell me about Thor and the taser incident."

Darcy just grins, and the two of them cloud watch in silence.

\--

Accidental meetings turned to planned ones. From weekly meetings to daily ones, right down to the hour. And before long, it became a ritual.

\--

 Darcy fills her lungs with air and pours all of her anger out.

" **Mayor Steiner is a massive douchebag!** "

She hears nothing but the distant noises of traffic and dry whips of winter air. It didn't matter if she was heard, anyway- she's been dying to get that off her chest all day. Darcy is ready to let out a torrent of obscenities when she hears the door open behind her. She doesn't even bother turning around. Instead, she huffs and wraps her coat even tighter.

"Can you please chuck him off the roof for me?"

Darcy hears a rumble of laughter behind her as Steve leans on the railing.

"No can do, doll. We're trying to impress the public, not scare them."

"But he's a douchebag- a _douchebag_ , Steve!" Darcy whines, clutching his arm and tugging on it. "He kept on leering at me and Natasha. Hell, he even tried to cop a feel when he shook hands with Pepper!"

Steve snorts.

"I know, I was there. Who did you think had to hold back Tony?" He mimics the murderous expression on Tony's face, making Darcy smile. "He _is_ a creep, though."

Darcy turns back to the cityscape and makes a show of sucking in a breath. Steve twitches.

"Wait a second, Darce. What are you-"

"- **Captain America thinks Mayor Steiner is a massive douchebaaa** - _ha ha ha_!"

Darcy's doubling over in laughter as Steve tickles her mercilessly. There's tears in her eyes and all she can feel are warm spiders skittering across her ribs.

"Okay, mercy, _mercy_! I'm sorry!" Darcy gasps, turning around to face him. Steve's arms are still around her, laying neatly on her waist. His body heat is radiating through his coat and warming her palms. They've never been this close before and they're both painfully aware of it. Steve breaks the silence by coughing and dropping his arms.

"Come on, trouble maker. You'll get sick if you stay out here any longer."

"Just one second," Darcy promises, and faces the city ones more. She inhales, and...

" **Steve Rogers is a jerk!** "

Darcy makes a break for the stairs, laughing manically. She doesn't need to look back to know Steve's hot on her tail.

\--

The roof became her solace. She feels like it's their secret garden, their peace, their pocket universe where they could stop being a hero of justice and a glorified assistant for a few hours.

\--

He's angry and they both know it.

Every inch Steve's body is tense - all lines and angles. No soft smiles or cheeky grins, just a hardened jaw, clenched fists, and the blazing blue of his eyes. So when Darcy steps out onto the roof an hour after the battle had finished, she's not surprised to see Steve glowering at her. She holds her head up and strides briskly towards him.

If there's one thing Darcy's learnt about Steve, it's that he's as stubborn as she is.

They have a good staring match that lasts for a minute. If it wasn't such a serious moment, she'd feel a little light headed at how intense the exchange is.

"You shouldn't have been out there."

Darcy's jaw drops.

"I didn't _plan_ being stuck in the subway when it started raining giant insects!"

"Then why didn't you go to the shelter? Coulson was running evac so you could have followed him-"

"-I did follow him! Then I heard something in his communicator about you having trouble with civilians upstairs. We both know that SHIELD's evacuation protocols don't let them grab everyone they can. I knew where the safehouse was-"

"-Coulson is an _agent_ , Darcy. His whole team is - they're trained for this type of thing and they could have handled it."

"I heard you yelling, Steve!" Darcy cries. "Even _you_ were getting worried at how long the team was taking! So I made a decision and ran back. Looking back, yeah, it was pretty dumb. But it was the _right_ thing to do, and I don't regret a single damn thing about  it- ugh!"

Darcy clutches at her bandaged torso and eases herself to the ground with Steve's help. It's the reward for her stupid stunt: a nasty gash across her stomach from a rouge giant mantis. She's lucky mutant bugs from space aren't immune to taser charges. Steve's still wearing a frown while he examines the dressings.

"That's going to scar."

"Don't worry. Every time I see it, I'll remember arguing with Captain Grumpy Face."

Steve scoffs and pulls Darcy's shirt gently down again. He rubs his face and sighs.

"When I saw you out there, I almost panicked," Steve whispers, clutching Darcy's shoulders tightly. "I can't afford to lose any more people I care about."

Darcy's having a hard time breathing and it has nothing to do with the pain from her battle scar. Steve gently cradles her head in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. His expression has softened but his eyes still burn.

"Promise me that you'll never do something like that again."

Darcy's glasses are foggy as she gingerly hugs Steve, sobbing into his dirt-covered uniform. He picks her up and carries her all the way down to the infirmary, ignoring the looks and whispers. She's laid in an empty bed like a glass rose. Darcy pulls weakly at Steve's arm when he tries to leave.

"Please stay."

He nods, and pulls up a chair. Darcy slips into a haze, her senses clinging on to various things. Crisp linens. Sterile air. Her hand tangled with Steve's, and the graze of warmth across her knuckles.

Darcy closes her eyes and wakes up to Coulson sitting in Steve's chair.

"He wanted you to have this," the agent says, placing a note on her table.

[ _Sorry I couldn't stay- urgent mission from Fury._  
 _We're not done talking yet, so I'll take you out_  
 _to dinner when I come back._  
  
 _Stay out of trouble, Darce.      -S_ ]

Darcy looks up at Coulson, who is halfway out the door before he turns around.

"You did well, Miss Lewis. But in the future, it would be best to leave these things to the professionals."

Darcy gives a half-assed salute.

"No complaints here, Son of Coul."

" _Agent_ Son of Coul," he mutters, a tiny smile on his tired face. "Until next time, Miss Lewis."

\--

In the back of her mind, she knew their ritual would stop soon. She just didn't know _when_.

\--

"Are you sure you want to do this, Nat?" Clint asks, looking warily at the figure sitting down. He knows Nat has a soft spot for Darcy and hates seeing her like this.

"She needs to know."

"Y'know for super spies, you two suck at keeping your voices down," Darcy drawls, swinging her legs loudly against the edge of Stark Tower. Natasha sits down gracefully next to Darcy and Clint gives Natasha 'the look'. Nat shakes her head and Clint leaves without a word.

"They lost him, didn't they?"

Darcy tries to keep her voice steady. She doesn't know if she can look Natasha in the eye without fracturing her mask of indifference.

"We leave in two hours," Natasha says softly, and Darcy just nods. She's thankful for the company as the last blazes of orange slip below the horizon. Natasha's communicator breaks the silence and she rises.

"Promise you'll come back home," croaks Darcy, her hands shaking. She summons all of her strength and looks right into Natasha's eyes - it's an unmistakable message.

_And bring him back._

"We all will, Darcy."

A firm grasp on the shoulder, the fading clicks of heels, and Natasha is gone.

\--

She's alone on the roof for four weeks after Steve disappears.

\--

It's midnight and Darcy can't sleep. Words from Clint and Natasha's latest report cloud around her like thick smoke.

_Signs of combat. Broken field equipment. Several bodies. Whereabouts remain unknown._

The last one crawls down her throat and chokes her.

_Whereabouts remain unknown._

Darcy flings her covers off, grabs a jacket, and makes her way to the elevator. JARVIS is kind enough to dim the lights when she enters. Her chest moves in a shallow rhythm.

"The usual, J-man. Please."

She's moving up before she even finishes the request.

"Of course, Miss Lewis."

Her pacing breaks into a run when the doors open. She takes the stairs two at a time, flings the stairwell door open, and falls to her knees at the edge of their heaven.

Darcy screams.

She tears her throat with curses and floods her eyes with grief. She cries, pleads, and prays. She pounds at the concrete with her fists, the scar on her belly raw as day.

When there's nothing left in her body but coldness and dull pain, she leaves and throws herself back into bed.

In the morning, Darcy lets Bruce bandage her hands and Jane gives her a long hug. Tony's not the type to get involved in these sorts of things, but Darcy appreciates the brief pat on the shoulder nonetheless. During lunch, she goes to the bathroom and takes several deep breaths.

She is Darcy Lewis. Research assistant to Tony Stark and his co-workers, Jane Foster and Bruce Banner. She is stubborn, impatient, and came oh so _close_ to falling: but she is Darcy Lewis.

She rucks her shirt up with one hand and stares at her scar.

"Troublemaker," she whispers, gripping the sink tighter and staring back at the woman in the mirror. Sleepless nights have marked her skin, but her eyes are as clear as their first day on the roof.

She is Darcy Lewis. She won't fall. Not now, not ever.

And there's no way in hell she's giving up now.

\--

Three words.

Three words, but they were all she needed.

[ _We're coming home_. ]

Darcy sprints out of the lab, yelling her thanks to Coulson. When she gets to the helipad, she sees Natasha and Clint first. They're dirty and dead tired- Clint has several butterfly bandages on his face and Natasha is walking with a slight limp. Darcy pushes past Thor bellowing congratulations and hugs them both. When she lets go of Natasha (who surprisingly, hugged her back), the spy nods her head towards the quinjet. There's several agents carrying equipment, and behind them is...

"Steve!"

He's rocking a scruffy beard and his uniform is stained with dried blood - but Darcy couldn't care less. She launches herself at Steve, who catches her with ease. She clings to him and stains his uniform with tears. He buries his head in her hair and breathes like a drowning man.

"M' home, Darce."

Darcy looks up at Steve's tired face - her nose red, glasses askew, and hair a vicious tangle of brown - and smiles for the first time in a month.

"Welcome home, Steve."

\--

Whenever their reunion is brought up in the future, everyone has different viewpoints. Tony and Thor recall it like a drama, complete with spinning and declarations of undying love. Clint would insist that Darcy punched Steve before kissing him senseless. Natasha always has a small smirk when she feigns ignorance of the whole event, whilst Coulson would change the subject immediately. Each recount was always slightly off, but one thing remained the same.

It ends with the two of them on the roof.

\--

It's a beautiful night and Darcy takes advantage of it.

She's desperately pawing at Steve's uniform while hot kisses rain upon her throat. Every scrape of his beard is rewarded with a moan. She wants to sink her fingertips into his skin and mark it with the crescents of her nails, but damn it - he's moving way too slow for her liking. She whines and presses Steve's wandering hands onto her breasts, hearing him chuckle.

He's doing it on purpose, the jerk.

"Relax," Steve whispers when she finally, _finally_ , works her way under his shirt. Her hands are a paintbrush across a canvas, caressing and yearning for more. When Darcy feels Steve's hands mirror her movements, she sighs in relief and yields.

They explore each other reverently - inch by inch, stroke by stroke. Whispers of affection and cries of joy. Each is touch a prayer and every kiss, a promise.

They remain in each other's arms until the first rays of light strike their garden. The air is clear and they're bathed in the embrace of dawn.

"Still taking you out to dinner," Steve says, his breath warm against Darcy's ear. She hums and pretends it's a bad thing.

"I don't know, Steve," she says, giving an exaggerated sigh. "I think we'll need more than just one dinner, don't you? Since we'll need to do a lot of... _talking_." She emphasises her sentence by rolling her hips. Steve fails miserably at keeping a straight face and Darcy gives him a wink.

"Sorry, soldier. It looks like you'll be stuck this trouble maker for a whi- mmph!"

Steve's lips are urgent against her own and she melts into him. When he pulls away, Darcy wonders whether his kisses will always leave her this breathless.

"I've always had a thing for trouble."

There's nothing but gold contentment around them and Darcy can see herself reflected in Steve's mischievous eyes.

She grins and takes Steve's hands into her own.

Oh, yeah. It's going to be a _great_ day.

**Author's Note:**

> For me, rooftops are the closest thing to a sanctuary - and I'm sure there are others who feel this way.
> 
> All my love to you, Darcyland. x


End file.
